Nameless
by DreamsReality
Summary: After Ginny dies, Harry struggles to deal with what fate has now handed him. Rated M for later chapters. Will be a 2 or 3 shot.


**Word Count: **4,812

**Summary: **When Ginny dies unexpectecdly, Harry struggles to deal with the hand Fate has dealt him.

**Warnings: **Will be Draco/Harry. This chapter has no warnings, though. Just a set up and a little fluffy loving.

**Clear:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I just like to play with them.

**Chapter One: **Death

Ginny was dead.

It happened stupidly, some idiot wanting to test Harry again, to make him have to fight for his life, for his happiness. For anything and everything he wanted. Harry and Ginny had made plans to hold a press conference, to talk about their wedding and their lives since the war ended. And, to make an announcement.

The conference went well, photos were snapped, questions were asked and everything seemed to go well. Until a crazed fan decided that Harry's life needed to explode into chaos all over again, to make Harry a Hero again. He cast a curse that Harry was able to block out of instinct, but then the curses kept on coming, flying into the crowd and at Harry, at Ginny. Harry had to protect Ginny. He just had to. She was too important, her survival was too important.

He made sure she was safe – well, as safe as she could be with a madman firing Killing Curses into the crowd. Harry's aim was true, but in his desperation to save Ginny, and everyone else there, he chose to save a young woman instead of killing the man. He dove for the girl and held himself on top of her while the madman screamed curses, jinxes and charms at the mass of panicked people.

People were falling to the ground and not getting up. Harry didn't know if they were trying to take cover or if they were dead. He prayed for the former. When a curse flew in the direction of Ginny, Harry lost it.

As he came around, he couldn't remember killing the man. He couldn't remember how it had happened. Though, he did remember why. Ginny. Harry had flashbacks from the war in the aftermath, the destruction was so great. People lay in lumps of lifeless, unmoving nothingness and the screaming echoed in his ears.

He searched for Ginny; looking in the place he had left her, only to find that she was dead. Harry scooped up her body and Apparated to St. Mungo's, holding her tightly as he rushed through the wards, searching for Hermione. He didn't remember screaming for her. He only remembered that she finally came and then everything blurred.

Things seemed to supernova from there. Hermione rushed in and took over; everything happened so fast, Harry had no idea what was going on. He was ushered into the waiting room, and made to sit in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. He didn't even notice. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days and days into months. The months were only seconds, just slipping by at a glacial pace.

Harry floated in and out of consciousness, his eyes going dull as he sat there, as he waited, as he prayed for the one thing he knew he could never have. Harry just wanted the life he and Ginny were going to have together. He wanted the normalcy that would come from having a wife and a home and a family and friends. He wanted that. He wanted it desperately.

But, that chance was lost.

Harry had a baby in his arms. A baby that shouldn't have been born for another four months; one that, for all intents and purposes, should have been dead. Because Ginny was dead. He didn't understand.

Looking to Hermione, she offered a small smile and tried to explain. "Harry," she whispered through her tears, "Ginny wasn't dead long enough for her body to start killing the child. I removed the baby from her and did an experimental spell. I figured, since it would die anyway, no matter what else we tried for it, the spell wouldn't hurt." She lost control of herself for a moment and rubbed her own swollen stomach, trying to comfort herself and the baby that kicked and fussed and shoved at her belly in its' panic at Hermione's unease. Harry was too in shock to notice or he would have done something to help. He just starred at the child in his arms. "I rushed her development, Harry. She's a little small, but she's healthy. Born at five months, she's now the size of a child born at full term – because of the spell. Her lungs are a little small, but she's healthy and that's all that matters."

Hermione threw herself into Harry's arms and held him tightly, pressing her face into his neck and just sobbed. He vaguely remembered lifting one arm and pulling her close, but his eyes were still locked on the sleeping face of his little girl. His daughter. Who would never have a mother. Who would never know the warmth of Ginny's arms, her smile, the way her dark eyes glittered with happiness and the love she held for Harry and for the world. Harry was never really in love with Ginny – he didn't know how to be in love – but he loved her and that was enough for them both. It had been enough that they married and started a family and now, their daughter who they'd never settled on a name for, was here.

OoOoOoO

A month passed before Harry settled on a name for the little girl. He'd called her 'sweetie,' 'baby girl,' 'angel' and a slew of other pet names but he'd never settled on a name.

Hermione and Ron pushed him to name her; Ron and the rest of the Weasley clan rooting for Ginny to be her name. But, Harry refused. Ginny was dead and his angel was alive. He would not name her after her dead mother.

It took a trip to Godric's Hollow for Harry to settle on a name. It was spring time and the flowers of his newly renovated and rebuilt home were in full bloom. A sea of wild flowers swelled up around the house on both sides, spilling into the front of the home like stragglers. But it wasn't the wild flowers that caught Harry's attention. It was the little patch of lilies that welcomed him home. Lillie. He was going to name her Lillie. But, not as her first name. He didn't like that. Lillie would be her middle name.

Harry had always liked old school names. Like, Caelum, Caelyn… Things like that, though the names he kept thinking of were for boys. And his angel was not a boy. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, gripping the locks and sighing. He looked down at the carrier he had her in, which he'd settled on the ground as he looked at the flowers. Kneeling down, Harry brushed his fingers over her cheek. She opened the greenest eyes he'd ever seen and cooed at him. Sighing, he picked her up out of her carrier and carried the carrier into the house. He held her in his arms and patted her back gently as he locked the door behind him and headed into the town.

The little girl cooed and gripped at his shirt, her brilliant eyes looking all around. For being just a month old, she was growing quickly. Harry still reveled in Hermione's magic and her Healer's skills. She was amazing. And while he had no idea how to raise a child, he was doing just fine with her. She still didn't sleep through the night but Harry didn't mind. He didn't sleep at all.

Together, Harry and his still nameless daughter, wandered through the town, window shopping. He laughed at the little girls coos and smiled at other children as they ran past. He patted his daughter's back and babbled into her ear about nothing, and everything. The wind was still a little chilly but the air was warm and the sun was hot. Deciding he wanted some tea, Harry headed into a little shoppe just as someone was coming out.

He collided with the body and pin wheeled his free arm to keep from falling backwards. He cradled his daughter with his other arm, trying to keep her safe. Harry ended up on the sidewalk, on his bottom, looking rather dazed. His first instinct was to curse at the person but the little girl in his arms started to fuss and all of his anger dissolved. He shifted her position and cradled her in his arm, rocking her slowly and talking softly to her. The girl's brilliant green eyes were teary and her cheeks bright red, but she didn't start to scream and for that, Harry was thankful.

He sighed when she settled down and hugged her close with both arms, his eyes closing. Harry sat there for a few moments, just hugging the little girl, before his eyes peeked open and he looked up at the person he'd run into. Emerald eyes met winter grey and Harry offered a small, awkward smile. "Draco," he gasped softly. He hadn't seen the blond in years, not since the trials when he'd gotten Draco and his mother off virtually scot-free. They'd had to pay reparations, but nothing too drastic. Lucius had gone to prison, though. He was a known Death Eater and nothing could be done about it. Not that Harry was particularly sad. Draco and Narcissa didn't seem to be too upset, either.

Maneuvering so he could get up off of the ground, he brushed his pants off with his free hand and offered a better smile now. "Hello, Draco," Harry murmured, holding out his free hand. "I haven't seen you in a while. How are you? How are things? What are you doing in Godric's Hollow?" he asked as he rocked the girl in his arms.

Draco looked just as shocked as Harry, standing stock-still as the body bumped into him and then sat on the floor, cuddling a child. He felt awful but he was still in awe of the person he'd knocked over. Instead of cursing him or shouting or anything else he'd been in order to do, Harry had tended to the almost crying child and the smiled at him. He shook his head but gave a shrug of his shoulders.

"Hello, Harry," the blond murmured, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. "I'm quite well, and yourself? Things could be better but that's the same with a lot of people, isn't it? The world is still trying to come together after the war, it hasn't been that long and a lot was lost. I don't look at my hardships any more closely than I look at the next person's." He chuckled and released Harry's hand, his eyes flickering to the girl before the locked on Harry's face again.

"Oh, I've just bought a cottage down the street. I grew tired of living in the Manor with Mother and decided a change would do me good. Godric's Hollow seemed perfect – even if the name is lacking in some respects," Draco said, laughing again.

Harry nodded, listening enrapt to Draco's voice. It wasn't the words, or anything like that, it was the way Draco said the words. His voice was different than Harry remembered it. And his laugh! Draco Malfoy could laugh! Harry was sure he was in shock. "Hey, give it a chance; it's quite charming – just like the rest of Godric's Gryffindors!" Harry laughed softly and the action made the girl in his arms shift and coo little gurgling noises at her father.

The noises caught Draco's attention and he smiled, taking a small step closer. "Who's this? The newest Weasley?" he asked, and even though his voice struggled over the last word, there was no malcontent.

"No, actually, this is the newest Potter. My daughter," Harry murmured proudly, shifting the little girl so Draco could better see her.

She blinked open her greener-than-green eyes and reached out her tiny hands, gripping at the air through the part in her blanket. She looked up at Draco and opened her mouth as if to smile, though she was much too young for that feat. Her little arms flailed wildly and she crooned, kicking out her little legs.

The movement under the blanket drew Draco's eyes and he found himself laughing quietly. He reached out and offered his fingers to her grasping hands, gripping and tugging him closer still. He moved obligingly and soon stood right beside Harry. "She's beautiful," he murmured, looking from the girl to Harry and back again. "What's her name?" Draco questioned as he brushed some dark hair from her face.

"Thank you," he whispered. Harry had the presence of self to blush and cough softly at Draco's next question, looking rather embarrassed. "Actually," he murmured, "she doesn't have a name yet."

Draco was shocked. "No name?" he asked, shaking his head as his eyes moved for the girl again. "Why doesn't she have a name? Haven't you and Mrs. Potter talked about something?"

The flush on Harry's face faded into paleness and he shook his head, cuddling the girl tightly. "No. Ginny and I didn't have a chance to name her. Ginny was murdered and we had wanted to wait to find out the baby's gender, the greatest surprise, we said. We hadn't even really started talking about names yet. The only other person who knew she was pregnant was Hermione, until the night before she died. We had dinner with the Weasleys to announce the pregnancy and then, at the press conference we'd scheduled for the next day, some crazy guy went and killed her. Ginny was only five months pregnant. She'd just started to show and we went to Hermione once more to make sure the baby was healthy before we told everyone," Harry confessed. He felt guilty about Ginny's death, though there was nothing more he could have done to save her. At least he'd saved their daughter.

Shaking his head, Draco moved back a little to lean against the window ledge, his eyes a little too wide. "Oh, Merlin, Harry, I am so sorry," he whispered, reaching out to touch the former Gryffindor's arm. "I didn't know. Mother and I stopped getting the papers after the war. I…" Draco cleared his throat and shook his head again. "Merlin, I am so very sorry."

A comfortable silence passed between them and after a moment, Harry shook himself from his thoughts of that day and Ginny's death. "It's okay. It was over a month ago and I'm dealing. We're dealing," he corrected, looking at the little girl and smiling as she gurgled at him.

"I'm sorry to ask, but I don't understand," Draco murmured, his voice so very soft, "if Ginny was only five months pregnant, why is your daughter so…normal…looking?"

Harry laughed at Draco's pause and nodded his understanding. "Do you mind if I get some tea first? I don't mind telling you, and if you aren't busy, you can come to our home for a bit. I'll explain," he promised, moving for the door to the little tea shoppe.

Draco opened the door and nodded, following Harry through. He was astonished; both for Harry's daughter and the fact that he and the 'Boy-Who-Lived-Twice' were being so cordial. During the trial, they'd graduated to calling each other by their first names. After the verdict, they'd even been able to have a conversation, a normal, civilized conversation. But now, they were actually getting on as friends. Perhaps more had changed in the past two years than Draco had originally thought.

After Harry had his tea in hand, and they were on their way back to Harry's home, Draco and Harry walked slowly, in perfectly companionable silence. Draco pushed open the gate to Harry's yard and allowed the raven to move in before him. Once inside, Harry laid his daughter in her carrier and rocked it with his hand, settling it on the couch beside him. Draco took up the chair beside the sofa and sipped at his own tea, still silent. The only thing that passed between them was the soft sounds of breathing and the little glances they passed back and forth.

Finally Harry broke the silence and offered Draco a smooth smile. "I owe you a story," he said quietly.

"If you don't mind to tell it," Draco answered, just as quietly. He crossed his legs and settled into the surprisingly comfortable chair, his eyes on Harry as he sipped at his tea.

"I don't," Harry assured him, yawning behind his tea cup. "Sorry," he flushed, chuckling at himself. "She still doesn't sleep all night and I don't sleep well to begin with. It's not a good combination." He laughed quietly, his eyes moving to look at the beautiful little girl. She wiggled in the carried but then, her cheeks turned red and she started to fuss.

"Oh my goodness, angel, I forgot to get your bottle," he muttered, quickly getting up and rushing into the kitchen. Harry returned with a bottle in his hand and offered it to her pouting mouth. She accepted it and settled right in, Harry looked relieved. "Sometimes, I forget she doesn't eat like I do," the raven confessed, blushing furiously.

"That's alright, Harry," Draco soothed. "I would probably forget as well. It can't be easy. Though, I have to admit, you're doing a much better job than I would be. I can't imagine if I had a child. I just can't," he said, shaking his head and chuckling at the thought. "Though, about your sleeping, shouldn't you take something? It can't be healthy for you not to sleep and then to run about, taking care of her," he said, looking from Harry to the girl and then to Harry again, his eyes settling on the scarred face. "I could make you a Sleeping Draught, Harry," Draco murmured.

Harry smiled but shook his head, "No, thank you though. I would be afraid I would sleep through it if she cried or something." He shrugged but sipped his tea, smiling at Draco. "Really, thank you. I appreciate it. Hermione offered to get me something but I wouldn't trust her to give me any medication. I might not wake up for the strength of it." He laughed loudly, a happy, vibrant, booming sound that made Draco smile in spite of himself. "Besides, I've had so many Sleeping Draughts in my short life that one more might just kill me. I'd be like Rip Van Winkle and sleep for a hundred years." He laughed again and wiped a stray tear from his cheek. As the laughter subsided, Harry relaxed into the couch and smiled a calm, easy smile at Draco.

The blond looked a little bewildered. "Who is Rip Van Winkle and why did he sleep for a hundred years?" he asked, his brows furrowed and his stormy eyes searching Harry's face, as if he could read the answered he sought right off of Harry's tanned skin.

The raven blushed and ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "It's a Muggle story about a man who drinks liquor from ghosts and falls asleep for a long time, only to find his wife has died and life has carried on without him," he told Draco, smiling a small, shy smile. "It was a story my aunt used to chastise my cousin with." He chuckled softly and turned his attention to his daughter, who had fallen asleep. He removed the bottle from her lips and replaced it with her binky.

"I know I owe you a story, but I need to put her down while she's asleep," Harry whispered, gently extracting the girl from her carrier and moving towards the stairs. "You can come with if you'd like. Just, get my tea?"

Draco found himself getting to his feet before he could stop himself, nodding as he did so. "Sure, of course, Harry," the blond murmured, scooping up Harry's tea and following him up the stairs and to the girls bedroom. It was done in a soft purple with bright aquas and greens throughout. Draco found himself really liking the soft, cozy feel of the room. "This fits you, Harry," he murmured, noting the simplicity of the nursery. "I like it."

Watching in rapture as Harry changed the girl from her little dress into a pair of footy pajamas; Draco couldn't help the smile that settled on his lips. A lot of things really had changed. He shook his head for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour or so but it didn't matter.

When Harry had finished and his daughter was sleeping peacefully in her crib, Harry turned to Draco and gave a small, relieved smile. "Sometimes, she wakes up when I change her," he whispered, moving past the blond and taking his tea, giving a long pull as he cast a quick charm that would alert him the moment she woke. Harry closed the door most of the way and then looked at the stairs before looking towards his bedroom. "If you don't mind, there's a sitting area in my bedroom," he murmured, walking towards his room and pushing the door open. "I like to stay up here when she's sleeping so I can get there quickly if she wakes crying."

The blond nodded his head again and followed silently behind Harry. They settled on a large leather sofa inside of Harry's room. For a moment, they sat there quietly, looking out the large bay window and watching as people meandered down the street.

"Which house is yours?" Harry asked, turning his eyes to Draco.

"That one," Draco replied, gesturing to the house just on the other side of the road from Harry's. "I moved in yesterday," he continued. "I didn't see any activity in this house. Where you not home?" he questioned, arching a brow.

Harry visibly drooped a little but shook his head. "No. Yesterday was the one month anniversary of Ginny's death. My angel and I were with the Weasleys," he whispered, looking at his hands as they gripped the tea.

Draco felt compelled to reach over and he gently laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. The raven jumped, his eyes going wide. He looked completely startled and nearly jerked away from Draco but soon relaxed a little and took a slow, deep breath. Draco left his hand there, just resting gently on Harry's shoulder; a soft, tender touch. "I am sorry, Harry," the former Slytherin whispered. "But, at least you have your daughter."

Harry nodded and slowly began to regain himself, pulling back in the wild magic that sparked around the room. He offered Draco an embarrassed little flush and reached up, covering the pale hand on his shoulder with his tanned one. It felt good to be touched, honestly. He hadn't had much contact with anyone other than his angel for a month. Sure the Weasleys, but they all smelled like Ginny and if he let his mind wander, just seeing the hair as he pulled out of a hug was enough to send him into a downward spiral. Draco's touch was a much welcomed comfort.

Slowly, Harry told Draco the story. He told the blond everything. Things he remembered in dreams, that he wasn't even sure were true. Thing he hadn't told anyone before. Because he knew Draco would understand. Draco didn't know Ginny; he didn't know the type of woman she'd grown into. The warm, caring, loving wife she'd been for the short time they'd been married. Harry also told Draco all of the dirty little details, things his dreams had reminded him of. He especially told Draco how he had killed the man who murdered his wife and almost cost him his daughter.

Harry divulged every dirty little secret he'd kept from Ron, Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys.

Turning his eyes to Draco's face, Harry saw something light behind Draco's eyes he hadn't noticed before. A flicker of something Harry couldn't begin to process. Of everything he thought it would be, it certainly wasn't. No disgust, hate, anger, fury, nausea, distaste. Nothing that Harry was afraid he'd see.

What he did read behind those eyes was something that stunned him more than he had words for. Lust. Understanding. Want. Complete and utter acceptance. Harry saw in Draco's eyes the acceptance he wouldn't have seen in anyone else's. And for the first time, in a long time, Harry felt okay. He didn't have to worry about upsetting Draco. He didn't have to watch what he said for fear of angering the blond. They'd come to terms with their differences a long time ago and had moved on from it. The fact that they could touch without cursing was proof of that.

"Draco," Harry murmured after a moment, his hand squeezing the pale hand of his former enemy. "Thank you." Harry took a long, slow deep breath and let out all of the frustration and guilt and anger he'd felt. He just let it all go, because holding onto that pain only made him miserable.

Draco blinked slowly, his stormy eyes moving over Harry's face. "What are you thanking me for?" he asked, squeezing Harry's shoulder in response to the squeeze of his hand. "I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to," Harry replied immediately. "It's the fact that you didn't say anything. That's what means the most. Everyone else has had a comment, has looked at me with disgust – even if I only told them part of the story. But, I didn't leave anything out for you," he confessed, his eyes locked on Draco's face. "I knew you would understand. I knew that our past would mean you'd understand if I was angry or if I did something reckless. You would understand me and not berate me for it. You wouldn't lecture me for it. You wouldn't look down on me for letting my emotions get the best of me, because, for six years, our emotions got the better of us both."

Blushing softly, Draco nodded his head. He understood perfectly and more words weren't needed. Instead, he shifted on the couch to sit right beside Harry, their legs brushing gently. He removed his hand from Harry's shoulder but instead of letting it go, Draco laced their fingers and let their joined hands rest in his lap.

The silence between them built and built until it died away and the late afternoon turned into early evening. The sun was going down and cast a brilliant glow about the room. Harry didn't notice. But, he did notice how the light moved over Draco's angular face, how it glittered in his white-blond hair. "I think I finally have a name for her," he whispered, looking at Draco with those emerald green eyes.

Draco turned to Harry, his eyes reflecting the sunset and glittering softly. "Yes?" he asked, his voice quiet as he lifted his chin just a little to better meet Harry's eyes as the raven got to his feet. Their hands were still joined, connecting them by laced fingers and years of understanding. "What is it, Harry?" Draco questioned.

"Draegyn," Harry replied, no hesitation in his voice. "Draegyn Lillie."

Draco swallowed softly, his bottom lip tugging between his teeth. "Do you think Ginny would like that?" he asked, his eyes searching Harry's face.

"No," Harry replied, "but I think you do."

And Harry was right. Draco did like it, very much. He gripped Harry's hand a little tighter and pulled the former 'Golden Boy' into his arms, making Harry settle straddling his lap. "And why does it matter? What I like?" Draco inquired his voice a low, husky hum.

"Because you understand me, Draco. Because, I think you understand me more, know more about me, from these last few hours than Ginny or Ron or Hermione knew or understood about me in ten years. You know me in my worst hour. You know the dirtiest secrets I've never told anyone before and you can look at me without looking appalled. You just look at me because you know me. Just like I know you," he whispered, his voice only getting lower the longer he spoke.

Draco's breath hitched in his throat. With Harry looking at him to intensely, his heart just hammered in his chest and he slid his fingers free from Harry's before sliding his arms around the raven's back and pulling him close. The hug was awkward, if only a little, because of their height difference. Draco was taller than Harry even sitting as they were and the hug made Draco's face press into Harry's neck and Harry's face press into Draco's throat.

It didn't seem to matter, though. It was necessary and needy and everything Harry had missed in his life. He hugged Draco tighter, his arms looping around the blonds' neck and pulling him closer. For the first time, in a long time, Harry was at peace.


End file.
